"What dreadful havoc in the human breast / The passions make, when unconfin'd, and mad, / They burst, unguided by the mental eye, / The light of reason; which in various ways / Points them to good, or turns them back from ill."

"He says that, tho' he were not nobly born, / Nature has form'd him noble, generous, brave, / Truely magnanimous, and warmly scorning / Whatever bears the smallest Taint of Baseness: / That every easy Virtue is his own; / Not learnt by painful Labour, but inspir'd, / Implanted in his Soul."

Chiefly one Charm / He in his graceful Character observes: / That tho' his Passions burn with high Impatience, / And sometimes, from a noble Heat of Nature, / Are ready to fly off, yet the least Check / Of ruling Reason brings them back to Temper, / And gentle Softness."